Monster Mayhem! It's Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man

Bela Lugosi as the Monster.

The surprising popularity of 1942's The Ghost of Frankenstein (not one of my faves) left Universal Studios in a quandary. It wanted to make a sequel, but its staff writers felt that the Frankenstein Monster had nowhere to go. Desperation sometimes results in inspiration and thus was born the idea of pairing the Frankenstein Monster with the Wolf Man. It was a clever premise that would extend the Universal monster movies for another decade.

Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943) opens with a splendidly atmospheric scene in which two grave robbers break into the Talbot Family crypt in order to rob the corpse of Larry Talbot. When they open his stone casket, they find Larry's body covered in wolf bane. I don't know about you, but that would have sent me packing in a hurry--especially with a full moon in the night sky. But the inept grave robbers hang around until Larry reaches up and grabs one of them.

Maria Ouspenskaya and Lon Chaney, Jr.

When we next see Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney, Jr.), he is very much alive. He gradually realizes that he survived his "death" four years earlier (depicted in The Wolf Man) and must therefore be immortal. Larry seeks out the gypsy Maleva (Maria Ouspenskaya), who has heard of a "great doctor" that may be able to help Larry find the peaceful sleep of death.

Larry finds the Monster in ice.

Alas, their journey to Vasaria proves fruitless when they learn that Dr. Frankenstein is dead. When Larry, as the Wolf Man, kills a young village woman, the townspeople pursue the vicious "wolf." As Larry the lyncanthrope evades the angry mob, he falls into a hidden chamber. The next morning, he discovers the Frankenstein Monster (Bela Lugosi) encased in ice and frees it. With the Monster's help, he tries to find Frankenstein's diaries and--he hopes--the secret to his own death.

It's hard to assess Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man because the Universal brass had the film cut before its release. In Curt Siodmak's original screenplay, the Monster could speak (as he could at the end of Ghost of Frankenstein). In his book The Dead That Walk, Leslie Halliwell includes some of the missing dialogue:

MONSTER: I can't see you. I'm blind, I'm sick. Once I had the strength of a hundred men. If Dr. Frankenstein were alive, he'd give it back to me...so I could live forever.

TALBOT: Do you know what happened?

MONSTER: I fell into the stream when the village people burned the house down. I lost consciousness. When I woke, I was frozen in the ice.

TALBOT: Buried alive. I know, I know...

MONSTER: Dr. Frankenstein created my body to be immortal. His son gave me a new brain, a clever brain. I will rule the world forever if we can find the formula that can give me back my strength. I will never die.

TALBOT: But I want to die. If you wanted to die, what would you do?

MONSTER: I would look for Dr. Frankenstein's diary. He knew the secret of immortality. He knew the secret of death.

This missing scene is a very illuminating one. First, it explains why the Monster walks with his arms outstretched awkwardly (he's blind!). It also clarifies why the Monster can be seen mouthing dialogue silently in the film (he was actually conversing with Larry). Finally, it explains why the creature would so willingly lead Talbot to the secret location of Dr. Frankenstein's papers.

The Monster disrupts the festival.

Without this key scene, Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man is a perplexing film at times. The middle portion also lumbers along awkwardly much like the Monster. Still, there are three marvelous scenes: the aforementioned grave robbing sequence, the Monster's sudden appearance in Vasaria during the Festival of the New Wine, and the climatic fight. Granted, it's clearly a stunt double--not Bela--as the Monster during the big showdown. Also, I can't imagine the Wolf Man surviving this face-off (his strategy seems to consist of climbing up on lab equipment and jumping on the Monster).

Director Roy William Neill was Universal's best "B" movie director and, while his pacing may be off this time, he creates a visually hypnotic world of blacks, grays, and white. The cemetery, with its eternally blowing leaves and whistling winds, is like a gothic painting come to life.

Lon Chaney, Jr. as the Wolf Man.

Chaney is his usual self as the Wolf Man (and that's not a bad thing). Bela is miscast as the Monster; one can even spot his facial features through the makeup. Patric Knowles, Ilona Massey, Dennis Hoey, Dwight Frye, and Lionel Atwill make a solid supporting cast. I would've like to have seen more of Maria Ouspenskaya (cinema's best gypsy) and it's too bad Atwill played a mayor and not the one-armed prefect from Son of Frankenstein (1939).

Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man was a big hit and spawned two immediate sequels with even more monsters: House of Frankenstein (1944) and House of Dracula (1945). After a short rest, the Universal monsters returned in the 1950s to face off against their biggest adversaries yet: Bud Abbott and Lou Costello.

Dracula's Daughter--The Reluctant Vampire

Gloria Holden as the title character.

An intriguing--not wholly successfully--sequel, Dracula's Daughter (1936) opens with Von Helsing being arrested for the murder of Count Dracula. The investigating Scotland Yard inspector understandably questions Von Helsing's tale of vampirism and recommends he retain a barrister. Instead, the Dutch professor turns to renowned psychiatrist Jeffrey Garth (Otto Kruger), a former pupil.

The Countess stalks her next victim.

Meanwhile, Dracula's corpse is stolen from police headquarters and cremated by his daughter. Countess Marya Zaleska (Gloria Holden) believes that, with her father's destruction, "the spell is broken." Alas, she soon realizes that she still cannot resist her thirst for blood. A chance encounter with Garth convinces her that the psychiatrist may be able to help her overcome her "addiction." He agrees to treat her--without understanding the nature of her condition. Will Countess Dracula be cured? Will Von Helsing be executed for ridding the world of her evil father?

Good ideas abound in Dracula's Daughter, though the final screenplay by Garrett Fort fails to flesh out most of them out. Part of the problem can be attributed to the script's erratic development. When Universal Pictures first decided to mount a sequel to Dracula (1931), it approached screenwriter John L. Balderston, whose credits included the original, The Bride of Frankenstein (1935), and The Mummy (1932). Balderston's treatment featured an evil vampiress, the murder of a baby, and a man being devoured by a wolf. Universal rejected it.

The studio then turned to R.C. Sherriff (The Invisible Man, Goodbye Mr. Chips) and Finlay Peter Dunne to develop a new script that resurrected Dracula. Lugosi was even signed to reprise Count Dracula, with the other leads to have been played by a 25-year-old Jane Wyatt and Cesar Romero. Unfortunately, that project was shelved and Garrett Fort, one of the writers on Frankenstein (1931), was assigned to adapt Bram Stoker's short story "Dracula's Guest" (though the screenplay retains nothing from the story except for the presence of a female vampire).

Holden and Otto Kruger.

The introduction of a reluctant "monster" allows Dracula's Daughter to stand out from other 1930s monster films. It was a theme that Universal milked for more lasting success with 1940's The Wolf Man and its sequels, which featured Lon Chaney, Jr. as the unwilling werewolf. There's a distinct difference between the two, of course. Whereas Chaney transformed into a creature with pure animal instincts, Gloria Holden's vampire retains her human emotions at all times. She knows the distinction between right and wrong and constantly struggles to overcome her cravings for blood. She even goes to great lengths to secure Jeffrey Garth's aid.

Countess Zaleska's need for blood provides the film's most notorious scene. Her henchman Sandor (Irving Pichel) picks up a poor young woman from the docks and convinces the girl to pose for his mistress. Playing the part of an artist, the Countess tries to resist her insatiable appetite for blood as the girl exposes her bare shoulders and neck. Ultimately, the vampire gives in to her addiction (though we never see the bite). Based mostly on this scene, some critics have suggested the presence of an underlying lesbian theme in Dracula's Daughter (reinforced perhaps by the Countess's later abduction of Garth's female assistant).

Personally, I think this is an example of critics to trying to add context that just isn't there. Countess Zaleska follows and kills a male victim earlier in the film, so she clearly show no gender preference in her choice of victims. Her abduction of Garth's assistant (Marguerite Churchill) is motivated solely by her desire to get Garth to follow her back to Dracula's castle and join her in eternal life. I do admit that that the aforementioned scene is visually stunning, with the dark-haired Countess cloaked in black while her blonde-haired victim wears white slip.

There's a little bit of Caligari.

Gloria Holden is a commanding presence as the title character. It became her best-known role in a career that never lived up to its promising beginnings (supporting roles in The Life of Emile Zola and Test Pilot). Otto Kruger makes a serviceable hero, reminding me of one of those well-meaning scientists from a 1950s science fiction film. Edward Van Sloan, who character's name changed inexplicably from Van Helsing to Von Helsing, has little screen time. Marguerite Churchill plays her part as Garth's girl Friday mostly for comic relief, which adds nothing to the film. Irving Pichel's Sandor looks like an outcast from The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.

Director Lambert Hillyer was a specialist in the Western genre, known best for helming William S. Hart silent films and "Wild Bill" Elliott "B" pictures. Surprisingly, he instills Dracula's Daughter with a genuinely chilling atmosphere. He also capitalizes on the fact that, unlike the Victorian-set Dracula, his sequel takes place in contemporary times. The (then) modern cars and traditionally foggy streets provide an effective visual contrast to one another.

Dracula's Daughter cost over $278,000, a hefty budget for Universal at the time. It failed to find an audience at the box office and faded into obscurity for several decades. By the 1970s, though, it had been revived by a small group of admirers; it was even shown in a film course I took at Indiana University. While Dracula's Daughter can't compare to the finest horrors of the 1930s, it's an interesting picture that's definitely worth 70 minutes of your time.


This post is part of the Classic Movie Blog Association's Fabulous Films of the 1930s Blogathon. Check out all the great posts by CMBA bloggers by clicking here.

Abbott & Costello Meet the Frankenstein Monster...and Dracula...and the Wolf Man*

Lou sits on the Frankenstein Monster.

Ask a classic movie fan to name their favorite comedians and I suspect only a few would list Bud Abbott and Lou Costello. More likely answers might be Chaplin, Keaton, and the Marx Brothers. And yet, the legacy of A&C is significant. They are often credited with singlehandedly saving Universal from bankruptcy in the 1940s. The duo was a Top 10 box office attraction for almost a decade and their comic routines influenced countless other comedians. Heck, the “Who’s on First” sketch from The Naughty Nineties has played in a continuous loop in the Baseball Hall of Fame for years.

Lou writes a note...not realizing who's
in the background.

The Library of Congress added one of their pictures, 1948’s Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, to the National Film Registry in 2001. That’s appropriate since it’s one of the team’s finest efforts, casting them as shipping clerks Chick (Bud) and Wilbur (Lou), who receive two mysterious crates en route to McDougal’s House of Horrors. It turns out that one crate contains Dracula’s coffin and the other the Frankenstein Monster. It’s not long before Count Dracula and the Monster relocate to a nearby castle with Larry Talbot—aka the Wolf Man—and a female insurance investigator in hot pursuit.

This was Lugosi's second--and final--
appearance as Count Dracula.

The film’s premise is wonderfully wacky: Dracula has recently experienced difficulty with controlling the Frankenstein Monster, so he wants to replace the Monster’s brain. Dr. Sandra Mornay (a female mad scientist—a nice touch) has chosen Wilbur’s brain because of its simplicity. When Wilbur discovers Dracula’s plot, he quips: “I've had this brain for thirty years. It hasn't done me any good!”

Loosely structured, A&C Meet Frankenstein allows Bud and Lou to recreate some of their most famous comic routines, specifically the moving candle and the revolving door. The former goes on too long, but the latter is a stellar example of perfect comic timing. Lou accidentally discovers a secret revolving door that leads from a passageway to a room containing Dracula and the Monster. Lou returns to the passage to fetch Bud, but as they pass through the revolving door, Drac and the Monster go into the passage—so Bud never sees them. And that’s just the start of the routine. Silly? No doubt. Funny? Most definitely.

One of the film’s strengths is that Bela Lugosi (as Dracula) and Lon Chaney, Jr. (Larry Talbot) play their roles straight. Honestly, it must have been a challenge to keep a straight face in some of the scenes with Costello, such as these two exchanges:

LARRY TALBOT: I know you'll think I'm crazy, but in half an hour the moon will rise and I'll turn into a wolf.

WILBUR: You and twenty million other guys.

Later in the film, Larry approaches Lou, who has agreed to go to a masquerade ball with both Dr. Mornay and the insurance investigator.

WILBUR: I've got a date. In fact I've got two dates.

LARRY TALBOT: But you and I have a date with destiny.

WILBUR: Let Chick go with Destiny.

Lou Costello and Bud Abbott.

A&C Meet Frankenstein was a big hit for Universal and led to several spooky follow-ups: Abbott and Costello Meet the Killer (1949); Abbott and Costello Meet the Invisible Man (1951); Abbott and Costello Meet Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1953); and Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy (1955). The first two “sequels” were well-done comedies, but the formula started to wear thin by the time the boys encountered Dr. Jekyll (though even Meet the Mummy has its moments).  After that, they only made one more film (1956’s Dance With Me, Henry) and then dissolved the team for good. Costello died three years later.

There are classic horror fans who grouse that A&C Meet Frankenstein sounded the death toll for Universal’s classic monsters. That’s simply not true. The monster movie extravaganzas House of Frankenstein (1944) and House of Dracula (1945) already proved that Dracula, the Wolf Man, and the Frankenstein Monster had lost much of their appeal. They could not be relied upon to draw audiences individually—only when combined together. The studio needed a different kind of creature and eventually found just that in the early 1950s with The Creature from the Black Lagoon.

By the way, it’s worth noting that the Frankenstein Monster speaks in A&C Meet Frankenstein. I believe his dialogue consists of one word…when he responds to Dracula with: “Master.” If memory serves, the Monster only speaks in two other Universal movies, the acclaimed Bride of Frankenstein (1935) and The Ghost of Frankenstein (1940). Glenn Strange played the Monster in the A&C movie, his third appearance after donning the make-up earlier in both House pictures. The 6' 6" Strange went on to play Sam the bartender, who worked at Miss Kitty’s Long Branch Saloon in TV’s Gunsmoke.

Abbott and Costello Meet Franenstein is certainly one of the duo’s best comedies, along with Hold That Ghost (1941), Who Done It? (1942), and The Time of Their Lives (1946). It sometimes pops up on television around Halloween, but it makes for an amusing evening’s entertainment any time of year.

* The Invisible Man makes an "appearance," voiced by Vincent Price, in the final scene.

Is "Son of Frankenstein" the Best of Universal's Series?

Boris Karloff in Son of Frankenstein.

The general consensus among film critics and classic movie fans is that Bride of Frankenstein (1935) is the high point of Universal's Frankenstein series. It's also widely heralded as one of the finest horror films (TIME Magazine even ranked it as one of the 100 greatest films of all time in 2005). While I'm definitely a Bride fan, I hate that its reputation overshadows the series' next installment, 1939's Son of Frankenstein. I think it's as good--if not better--than Bride of Frankenstein.

The film opens with Wolf von Frankenstein and his family aboard a train heading for the town of Frankenstein as a horrendous thunderstorm rages across the landscape. Although there are local officials and villagers waiting at the train station, the family gets a cold reception (the burgomaster states flatly: "We are here to meet you, not to greet you."). Memories of the Frankenstein Monster's wrath still cast a dark shadow on a village that is "forsaken, desolate, and shunned by every traveler."

Ygor and friend.

Among the documents left by his father, Wolf (Basil Rathbone) finds Henry Frankenstein's records detailing how he discovered the source of life. When exploring his father's laboratory, Wolf finds the Monster--who lives, but in a comatose state. The shepherd Ygor (Bela Lugosi) tells Frankenstein that the Monster (Boris Karloff) survived the explosion at the end of Bride of Frankenstein. He implies that the Monster cannot be destroyed ("Your father made him for always"). However, while "hunting" one night, the Monster was struck by lightning and now lies almost lifeless on a slab. Wolf, who has already become obsessed with his father's work, sees restoring the Monster as a way to vindicate the family name. Of course, Ygor has other plans for the Monster....

The prevalent theme in Son of Frankenstein revolves around family. Wolf's actions are driven in large part by his desire to prove his father was a great scientist, not a mad one. When he finds the words "Maker of Monsters" etched on his father's casket, he changes "Monsters" to "Men." Another familial connection is the one between the Monster and Ygor. This is a carryover from the brief friendship between the Monster and the blind hermit from Bride of Frankenstein--only Ygor's motives are far from altruistic. Then, there's Wolf's temporary disinterest in the welfare of his own family, which almost results in his young son's death. And finally, there's the most intriguing family connection of all: Ygor notes that Wolf and the Monster are "brothers" since they shared the same father (but the Monster's "mother" was electricity!).

Bela Lugosi as Ygor.

Willis (aka Wyllis) Cooper, a radio producer, wrote the original screenplay. However, according to many sources, director Rowland V. Lee rewrote much of it during the production. That partially accounted for the film's original budget ballooning from $300,000 to $420,000. Despite the manner in which the script was developed, it contains many juicy bits of dialogue. My favorite may be Ygor's response to Frankenstein on why he was hanged: "Because I stole bodies...they said."

The picture gets a huge boost from a number of outstanding performances. Lionel Atwill's one-armed police inspector has a chilling scene in which he describes his encounter with the Monster as a boy ("One doesn't easily forget, Herr Baron, an arm torn out by the roots."). Atwill would appear in four more Frankenstein films, playing inspectors in House of Frankenstein and House of Dracula. While Boris Karloff has no dialogue in this outing, he nonethless instills the Monster with very human emotions. While more of a killer than in the previous films, he elicits sympathy in two key scenes: as he stands in front of a mirror, disgusted with his appearance, and compares himself to Wolf and when he lets out a cry of anguish after finding Ygor's body. As for Basil Rathbone, while he has been accused of overacting as Wolf, I thought his manic performance was perfect for the part. He was certainly more subdued than Colin Clive in Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein.

The Monster compares himself to Wolf von Frankenstein.

That leaves Bela Lugosi, who gives the best performance of his career. True, Ygor is a meaty role--but Lugosi attacks it with glee. He can be subtle, too, as in a brilliant scene in which he reminds Wolf that the Monster will do whatever Ygor tells him. Sadly, Lugosi reprised the role to less effect in 1942's The Ghost of Frankenstein, which, unlike its predecessors, was strictly a "B" film.

One of Otterson's distorted sets.

From a technical standpoint, Son of Frankenstein reflects the work of highly skilled craftsmen. Jack Otterson's brilliant, warped sets enhance the film's feeling of dread. His set design, combined with director Lee's bold use of light and shadows, pre-dates some of the techniques popularized in later film noirs. Although Otterson didn't receive an Oscar nomination for Son of Frankenstein, he was nominated--every year--from 1937 to 1943. Likewise, composer Frank Skinner was ignored for his memorable score, but was also nominated five times from 1939 to 1944. His Son of Frankenstein score was popular enough to be recycled in numerous other Universal films.

If I haven't convinced you yet of the virtues of Son of Frankenstein, let me leave you with this assessment from Universal Horrors: "Grandiose in scope, magnificent in design, it supplanted the quaint romanticism and delicate fantasy flavoring of Bride of Frankenstein with a stark, grimly expressionistic approach to horror." Well said.

Bela Lugosi Meets the East Side Kids in "Spooks Run Wild"

As a youngster, I loved the juvenile antics of the Bowery Boys and must have seen all their movies on a local TV station. Even the silliest films reflected an appreciation for classic vaudeville comedy with a duo comprised of a wisecracking straight man and a not-so-bright funny guy. I don't think Leo Gorcey (as Slip) and Huntz Hall (as Sach) will ever be considered comic geniuses--but they could be pretty funny.

Bobby Jordan, Gorcey, and Hall.

Still, their act evolved over the years from "straight roles" in Dead End (1937) and Angels With Dirty Faces (1938) to a string of "B" films. In the early 1940s, producer Sam Katzman signed the principal Boys to a contract with Monogram and billed them as the East Side Kids in a series of films. These pictures initially included dramatic elements, but gradually transitioned to straight comedies. By then, Leo Gorcey and Huntz Hall had emerged as the stars--and, in 1946, they revamped the series as the Bowery Boys.

This prelude brings us to Spooks Run Wild (1941), one of the better East Side Kids comedies. The somewhat jarring opening scene shows the gang in handcuffs. Yet, instead of being shipped off to a reform school, these "underprivileged youths" are sent to a two-week camp in the rural community of Hillside. It's a tense time in the small town, for a "monster killer"--who has committed "three inhuman murders"--is on the loose.

A publicity still with Lugosi, Angelo
Rossitto, and the guys.

The killer is almost certain to be one of two strangers that stops at the local gas station: a mysterious man (Bela Lugosi) with a dwarf assistant (Angelo Rossitto) and a kindly gentleman that introduces himself as Dr. Von Grosch (Dennis Moore). I bet you can guess which one is the killer!

The boys get involved when Muggs (Gorcey), Glimpy (Hall), and Danny (Bobby Jordan) sneak out of their cabin to visit the pretty blonde at the sweet shop. En route to town, they encounter an overzealous cemetery attendant who shoots Pee Wee (David Gorcey, Leo's younger brother). The guys seek help at the mysterious house on the hill. What follows is a traditional haunted house comedy with familiar gags such as Muggs and Glimpy donning suits of armor (with each thinking the other is a ghost or the killer). 

Lugosi and Rossitto.

The proceedings get a lift from the presence of Bela Lugosi. He's not in a lot of the movie, but--as he did later in Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein--he's not afraid to have a little fun at his own expense. His short-statured co-star Angelo Rossitto had a very long screen career, ranging from John Barrymore's The Beloved Rogue (1927) to Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (1985).

In 1954, Gorcey and Hall returned to the haunted house setting with The Bowery Boys Meet the Monsters. I haven't seen it in ages, but recall it being a funnier film. It boasts a pretty good supporting cast with John Dehner, Ellen Corby, and Lloyd Corrigan--but there's no Bela Lugosi.

The Black Cat (1934)

Without a doubt the most unusual horror film to come out of Hollywood in the 1930s was Universal Studio's’ The Black Cat (1934). How does one go about creating such a unique film? You take two renowned horror stars (Dracula himself, Bela Lugosi, and Frankenstein’s monster, Boris Karloff—in the first of seven films they would appear in together), add a dash of a director (Edgar G. Ulmer) heavily influenced by German expressionism, and then you mix in some strange amalgamation of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Black Cat” and “The Fall of the House of Usher” with necrophilia and satanism, and , finally, you top it off with an an eye-catching art deco set design by Charles D. Hall. Never mind that the story is difficult to understand (Universal ordered massive changes to the original cut due to its risqué plot),this is just too bizarre a film to miss.

Predating The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) by more than 40-years, The Black Cat finds two young lovers caught in the middle of a sadistic chess match between a mad architect/scientist and a depressed doctor. Dr. Vitus Werdegast (Lugosi) is returning home to Vizhegrad (Hungary) after spending the last 15 years in a Russian prison camp (Kurgaal). On the Orient Express (no Poirot doesn’t show up), Dr. Werdegast meets Joan (Jacqueline Wells) and Peter (David Manners) and immediately notices that Joan looks a lot like his lost wife. He tells them that he is on his way to visit an old friend, famed architect Hjalmar Poelzig (Karloff), at his mansion, which just happens to be built on a cliff overlooking the “greatest graveyard in the world” at Fort Marmorus. Really? Could there be a more ominous setting?

Later, when the bus they are travelling on crashes into a ravine, Joan is injured and it is determined that the couple should accompany Dr. Werdegast and his servant Thamal (Harry Cording) to the mansion. And this brings us to the best part of the film—the set design of Poelzig’s digs. Everything is ultra-modern, from the lighting (entire walls light up) to the super-sleek curved staircase.  Photographer John J. Mescall uses every inch of the set design and beyond-clever lighting to create some outstanding visual elements—you have to see it to truly appreciate it.

In a rather strange poke at Dracula (and Lugosi?), Poelzig is first introduced to the audience rising rigidly from his bed.  With a widow’s peak and dramatic sense of style (he wears a priest’s robe), Poelzig looks like the kind of man who would commune with the devil. It soon becomes apparent that Werdegast and Poelzig aren’t really BFF’s. Evidently Poelzig betrayed his countrymen in WWI and ran off when the Russians came. What Werdegast really wants is to find his wife (Karen) and daughter, and he thinks Poelzig might know where they are. Well, yeah, he does—he married Karen after telling her Werdegast was dead. Ah, the plot thickens…

As if this news wasn’t enough, Werdegast must deal with a reappearing black cat. For a normal person this wouldn’t be a big deal, but Werdegast is deathly afraid of them—did I mention he’s a psychiatrist…yeah, you’d think he could engage in some self-analysis to overcome this fear. Nope…instead he chooses to regard them as, and I quote, “the living embodiment of evil.” Ah, Werdegast, there are eviler things in the world—just ask Poelzig, who has a cellar full of dead women encased in glass. One of these women happens to be Karen (Lucille Lund) and when Poelzig reintroduces the “couple” it is not a happy time. Werdegast attempts to shoot Poelzig, but before he can pull the trigger another black cat saunters in and immobilizes the doctor.

Later, we learn that the doctor’s daughter, Karen (Lucille Lund…yeah, just go with it) is now Poelzig’s wife…a secret he chooses to keep from the doctor. One secret he doesn’t have a problem sharing, though, is that he plans to use Joan in a satanic black mass ritual. Of course, he is willing to challenge the doctor to a game of chess for Joan’s soul. Too bad for Joan that the doctor isn’t Bobby Fisher… Ah, and so let the Bach toccatas begin—really, Poelzig plays them on his creepy organ right before he kills Karen for sassing him. And, then the fun really begins!

Although it isn’t Halloween, Poelzig decides to host a satanic cult party at the fortress and Joan is the guest of honor. Organ music, broken Latin, black-tie attire, and a human sacrifice as the ultimate party game—who’d want to miss out on that! Well, Joan for one…I won’t spoil the ending for you, but lets just say it is a blast.

Unique in every sense, The Black Cat is high camp without being a camp film (is that possible?). Lugosi and Karloff play well off one another, but I wasn’t shocked to learn that neither received an Academy Award nomination for their performances in this film.  Still, I was a bit miffed that neither Charles D. Hall or John J. Mescall were recognized for their outstanding set design and photography.

31 Days of Halloween (Bonus 2nd Feature!): It's a Monster Smackdown in Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man

Throughout the 1930s and 1940s, Universal Studios dominated the horror film genre. If I had to pick one film most representative of its output, it’d be Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man. Certainly, Universal made better and more upscale horror films in the 1930s (e.g., Bride of Frankenstein, The Invisible Man) and early 1940s (e.g., The Wolf Man), but the majority of its horror harvest consisted of B-films and the best of the bunch was Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man.

The film opens with a rare (for the time) pre-title sequence in which two gravediggers invade the Talbot family crypt in search of riches. When they open Larry Talbot’s grave, they discover a well-preserved corpse covered in wolfbane. This affords one of the poor chaps the opportunity to recite the “even a man who is pure in heart” poem from The Wolf Man. He is barely finished when a hand emerges from the coffin and grabs him. The other gravedigger makes a quick exit, we hear a scream, a dropped lantern starts a fire, and credits roll.

Unfortunately freed from his peaceful “slumber”, werewolf Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney, Jr., of course) goes in search of someone who can destroy him…permanently. Leaving a trail of fatal wolf attacks in his wake, he tracks down Maleva the gypsy woman (the always wonderful Maria Ouspenkaya), the mother of the werewolf who bit him. Maleva says she “knows a man who has the power to help him” and so the two of them head for Vasaria in search of Dr. Frankenstein. Alas, the poor doctor is dead…but his monstrous creation is not. Before long, the poor residents of Vasaria find themselves coping with a newly-arrived werewolf as well as the return of the Frankenstein Monster!

The joy of this film is its assembly of familiar trappings and performers. Lionel Atwill, the prefect in Son of Frankenstein, plays the mayor of Vasaria. Dennis Hooey, who was Inspector Lestrade in the Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes series, plays essentially the same character here. The horde of angry villagers, a staple in many of the films, goes hunting for the Wolf Man after he kills a young woman. The Monster lumbers into town to spoil a lively Ocktoberfest celebration. And a young doctor, with the best of intentions, can’t resist the urge to see the Frankenstein Monster “at its full power.”

The only major flaw in this enjoyable horror affair is the Monster. Bela Lugosi has taken much criticism for his flat performance, which consists mostly of walking around with stiff arms outstretched awkwardly and growling. To Bela’s defense, the Monster is supposed to be blind, which was explained in a famous excised conversation between the Monster and Talbot (yes, the Monster was supposed to talk!). Even with the blindness explained, I still don’t think Bela could have brought the conviction to the role that Boris Karloff did. But, in all honestly, the Monster is not a fully-realized character in this film—not as he was in the first three Frankenstein films.

The bottom line is that Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man has no pretensions of being a classic monster movie. Its goal is to entertain and it certainly achieves that. It was also surprisingly successful and influential. It inspired Universal to assemble even more monsters for House of Frankenstein and House of Dracula. And one could say that it provided future filmmakers with the formula for revising a horror franchise—just add another monster, as was done in King Kong vs. Godzilla, Alien vs. Predator, and Freddy vs. Jason.